


sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills

by thefeelsonthebus



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Denial, there's a bunch of other kinky shit in there that i cba tagging, this is my very first smut ever so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 15:26:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7177304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefeelsonthebus/pseuds/thefeelsonthebus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan was about to spit a cutting retort back at him, say that he’d never fuck Kavinsky, never beg him for sex, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, Ronan Lynch promised himself that he’d never lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me father i have sinned
> 
> (title from hum hallelujah by fall out boy)

In the dream, Ronan was in Cabeswater. Shadows crisscrossed around the trees, giving the illusion that he was surrounded, but he knew he was alone. For now, at least.

And then he wasn’t alone, because Kavinsky had appeared. He must have taken his pill, even though he said he wanted to watch Ronan dream. He just couldn’t resist seeing Ronan, in a world where there were no boundaries.

“Lynch,” Kavinsky said, tipping his head. His white sunglasses slipped down his nose.

“Couldn’t wait to hear my voice again?” Ronan said sarcastically.

“Something like that.” He strode towards Ronan, and Ronan barely had time to breathe before Kavinsky was shoving him against a tree, their bodies pressing together. Ronan was painfully aware of Kavinsky’s leg lodged in between his own, and when Kavinsky bristled a little, his thigh brushed against Ronan’s dick, making him swallow and tilt his head back.

“Dreams are different to real life, Lynch,” Kavinsky said, smirking. His face was close to Ronan’s. Too close. “There's no rules here.”

“Clearly,” Ronan managed to say. Somehow, he made it sound sarcastic. “Or you wouldn’t be acting like a pervert.”

“Don’t lie, you want me, Lynch,” Kavinsky said, leaning in and whispering it in his ear. His breath smelled of smoke and drugs and sex. “You want me, just as much as you want Dick Gansey. Or was it trailer trash? I can’t remember.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan hissed.

“Don’t worry, I will do. But yeah, you want them too, but they’ll never want you. So all you have is me.” He smirked wickedly. “It’s a good thing I’m willing to blow you.”

Ronan swallowed, and moved his arm up to push Kavinsky away, but he grabbed Ronan’s wrists and held them fast against the tree. “I’m gonna make you hard,” he breathed, “and then, just as you’re begging for me to get my mouth around your cock, you’re gonna wake up. And you’re gonna be hard when you wake up, and you’ll carry on begging for it even then, in real life, and that’ll be even better, because it’ll be _real._ And you’ll have to go home and explain to Dick why you have cum on your shirt.”

Ronan was about to spit a cutting retort back at him, say that he’d never fuck Kavinsky, never beg him for sex, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. After all, Ronan Lynch promised himself that he’d never lie.

Kavinsky stuck his tongue out ever-so-slightly, and his smirk grew wider. He leaned in close to Ronan, his tongue only an inch away from Ronan’s mouth. Ronan found himself tilting his head, wanting Kavinsky despite his burning hatred of him, but Kavinsky wasn’t going to make it easy.

“You want it, don't you?” he said. “Say it, and I just might give it to you.”

Ronan stayed silent. He wasn’t ready to stoop to Kavinsky’s level just yet.

“Have it your way.” Very, very gently, Kavinsky touched the tip of his tongue to Ronan’s bottom lip, and _fuck –_ even that touch had Ronan getting hard in his jeans. Kavinsky traced his tongue around Ronan’s gaping lips with the slightest of touches, and Ronan gave in.

“Please,” he gasped.

Kavinsky retreated, and Ronan almost moaned. He was so hard now, and he wanted Kavinsky’s mouth around his cock, Kavinsky’s hand around his cock, anything to relieve him of this.

“Good boy,” Kavinsky whispered, then bit Ronan’s earlobe lightly before whispering in his ear. “Wake up.”

*

Ronan awoke in the Mitsubishi, his mind and limbs still hazy and slow from the dream. Even as he tried to lean up, Kavinsky was crawling on top of him, licking up his neck and biting at the skin.

“Fuck –“ Ronan moaned, then tried to swallow down the noise, because this was _Kavinsky,_ but it was already done. He felt Kavinsky’s smirk on his skin.

“You like that, Lynch? I thought you said you didn’t want me?”

Ronan couldn’t make a coherent sentence to counter that, because then Kavinsky was unzipping Ronan’s jeans in one fluid motion, and pulling his cock out of them.

“Does that feel good?” Kavinsky purred, stroking the shaft of Ronan’s cock. “Do you want me to suck you off? Give you what Dick Gansey can’t?”

How could Kavinsky reduce him to such a mess? All resolve he had in him, all stubbornness and _hatred_ had faded the moment Kavinsky had licked Ronan’s mouth open in his dream. Only a few fucking words reduced him to nothing more than a pleading whore, lying underneath Kavinsky with an aching dick and a whimper in his voice.

Kavinsky smirked again and shifted so he was sat at the other side of the car, his mouth hovering dangerously close to Ronan’s dick. “Tell me you want it,” Kavinsky said. A command, Ronan realised, through the haze in his head. Maybe the haze was the aftermath of the drugs. Maybe it was that Joseph Kavinsky was about to suck his cock.

Ronan wasn’t going to give in. Ronan could claw back this small bit of dignity, because he could see how hard Kavinsky was. He could see that Kavinsky was going to suck Ronan off, no matter what Ronan did.

Ronan’s mouth pressed together in a thin line. His cock was throbbing, but he squeezed his hands into fists and stared into Kavinsky’s dark, hungry eyes.

Kavinsky gave him a cool look. “Have it your way, Lynch,” he said, and his hand rose and cracked against Ronan’s cheek. Ronan grew even harder, if that was even possible, and Kavinsky’s tongue darted out again and touched the tip of Ronan’s cock.

Ronan almost came there and then, but he clawed it back. He wouldn’t finish so easily, not when Kavinsky was already trying to rile him as much as possible.

Kavinsky circled the head of Ronan’s dick with his tongue. Just the head, no more, and he didn’t take his cock into his mouth either. “You are gonna wish,” he said, dragging out the words, “you had done what I told you to. You know what I’m gonna do now?” When Ronan didn’t reply, Kavinsky spoke anyway. “I’m gonna get you so close to coming. I’m gonna get you right on the edge –“ he took Ronan in his mouth for a second, just for a second, and Ronan couldn’t stop a moan from breaking out of his mouth as Kavinsky pulled away again. “Then I’m gonna leave you hanging.”

He repeated that process over and over again, until Ronan was a wreck, his body slumped against the car door as Kavinsky got him so close to the edge then pulled him away again. Kavinsky was clearly enjoying it; his smirk was wide around Ronan’s dick.

“I might let you come this time,” Kavinsky said thoughtfully, and he moved his tongue faster and faster around Ronan’s dick. Ronan fisted his hand in Kavinsky’s hair, and he was just about to come, _finally,_ when Kavinsky pulled away and yanked the car door open. “Actually, on second thoughts…”

He pulled Ronan towards him by his shirt, and Ronan almost sobbed – fuck, he was so close that it hurt. “If you’re a good boy,” Kavinsky purred in his ear, “I’ll let you come. If you’re not, I’ll leave, and you’ll have to jerk yourself off like the lonely whore you are. So what’s it to be?” He pulled Ronan out of the car, and then sat on the seat and patted his lap. “Are you gonna be a good boy?”

Ronan hated himself for straddling Kavinsky’s lap, but he didn’t have a choice, really, did he? He’d be lying if he said he did.

Kavinsky’s hands tightened on his ass as he kissed Ronan, sloppily and lazily. Ronan couldn’t quite believe he was kissing Kavinsky – _Joseph Kavinsky, what would Gansey say?_ – but Kavinsky bit on Ronan’s lower lip. “Tell me you want me,” he said, and when Ronan didn’t reply, Kavinsky’s hand cracked against Ronan’s ass. “Lynch, do I have to ask again?”

Ronan rolled his hips, hoping that would be enough, but Kavinsky clearly wanted Ronan to verbally submit to him as well as physically. “You’re not being a good boy,” he said, and he slapped Ronan’s ass again. Ronan whimpered a little. “Do I have to warn you again?”

He shoved Ronan off him. “On your knees, Lynch.”

Ronan sank obediently to his knees. Who knew what Kavinsky would do if he didn’t?

Kavinsky pushed Ronan’s head in between his spread legs, and hissed as Ronan’s lips pressed against the fabric covering his dick. “That’s right,” he said lowly. “Don’t stop.”

Ronan opened his mouth, and let his tongue dampen the bulge in his jeans. Hearing Kavinsky moan reminded Ronan of how hard he was, how much he needed Kavinsky to make him come. He would play Kavinsky’s sick little game, just so he could get that.

Kavinsky fumbled with the zipper on his jeans, and Ronan looked back at the car park filled with identical white Mitsubishis. What if someone was here? What if, in some awful coincidence, Gansey and Adam had come looking for him?

Then Kavinsky slapped his cheek again. “Quit worrying, Lynch, nobody’s going to see you being a little cockslut.”

This wasn’t Gansey and Adam’s world. This was Kavinsky’s world, and Kavinsky made the rules.

Ronan’s lips parted at the sight of Kavinsky’s hard cock, and Kavinsky laughed, stroking the shaft slowly, teasingly. “If you’re a good boy and you suck me off, I might reward you.”

Ronan didn’t let him say anything else. He took Kavinsky in his mouth, and Kavinsky’s hand reached out and tightened around his throat, forcing Ronan’s head forward, hard and fast. His cock slid down Ronan’s throat and Ronan almost gagged, but he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop, because Kavinsky’s hand squeezing his throat was making him impossibly hard, so hard he ached, and if he stopped Kavinsky wouldn’t let him come. He would leave him hard and alone in the back of the Mitsubishi, and Ronan wouldn’t let that happen.

Kavinsky’s hand tightened as a groan escaped his lips, and then he was pulling Ronan’s mouth away from his dick, and coming on Ronan’s face, on his lips and jaw. “Fuck,” he hissed, and Ronan waited there on his knees, open-mouthed and wide-eyed. If he stayed like this, begging and submissive, Kavinsky would be more than willing to give him what he wanted.

“Very good, Lynch,” he said eventually, rubbing a thumb across Ronan’s cheek and then slapping it with the back of his hand. Ronan whined. Now that he wasn’t sucking Kavinsky off, all he could think about was how hard his dick was, how much it ached, and that if he didn’t have Kavinsky’s mouth around it soon he was going to implode. “You can have your reward now.”

He yanked at Ronan’s tank top, but Ronan was already scrambling up, letting Kavinsky push him back into the car. He lay there as Kavinsky shucked Ronan’s jeans down again and leaned half-in the car, taking Ronan’s dick in his hand.

“You deserve this,” he whispered. “You’re good at sucking dick. We’ll have to do this more often.” His strokes grew faster, and then he was bending down and taking Ronan in his mouth, his head moving up and down the shaft as his tongue swirled around the head of Ronan’s cock. Ronan’s whine grew louder, and he tried to fist his hands in Kavinsky’s hair, but Kavinsky took his wrists and pinned them behind Ronan’s back.

“No,” he said, his voice low and commanding, and paused for a moment, circling his tongue on Ronan’s abdomen.

The word escaped from Ronan's mouth without him giving it permission in the form of a whine. "Please."

Kavinsky's tongue darted lower, but he was smirking. “I choose when you come. If you come before I say you can, you’ll be sorry.”

Ronan swallowed. He was helpless. Nothing more than Kavinsky’s bitch, a tool for him to practice his fetishes on. And the worst part was that Ronan was relishing every minute of it.

Kavinsky licked the head of Ronan’s cock again, torturously slowly. A noise came from the back of Kavinsky’s throat, and Ronan wanted to grasp onto something to anchor him, but his hands were pinned under his body and he couldn’t move them. And Kavinsky’s tongue was getting faster and faster, and fuck, he was going to come without Kavinsky telling him, and then who knew what Kavinsky would do to him?

Just as Ronan thought he couldn’t hold it any longer, Kavinsky pulled his lips away and smirked up at Ronan. “You can come now,” he breathed, and took Ronan in his mouth again. A quick flick of Kavinsky’s tongue against the head of his dick was all it needed to push him over the edge, and then Ronan was coming down Kavinsky’s throat, his back arching and his mouth forming Kavinsky's name.

As Ronan caught his breath, every part of his body trembling, Kavinsky climbed back into the car and held himself above Ronan. “See you on the streets, Lynch,” he purred, and tossed something that jangled beside Ronan’s head before disappearing.

A familiar engine started up, and Ronan knew Kavinsky had taken his BMW. He had taken his only way to get back to Monmouth without arousing Gansey’s suspicions. Fucking bastard.

Then Ronan turned his head, and realised Kavinsky had left the keys to the Mitsubishi.

*

Half an hour later, Ronan pulled up outside Monmouth and slammed the Mitsubishi door, his face glistening with water. He had cleaned himself up before he came back, he wasn’t an idiot, but he was still shaking inside. Fuck, he didn’t know how he was going to look at Kavinsky the same way again. He didn’t know how he was going to be in his company without wanting to submit to him.

Gansey was nowhere to be seen, but Adam was outside, fixing the Pig. (Again.) Ronan tried to walk past him, but Adam’s head snapped up, his eyes glancing at first the car and then Ronan’s slightly guilty expression.

“Where’s the BMW?”

Ronan didn’t say anything. He clicked the car keys so the door locked, and started to walk inside when Adam spoke again.

“And why the white Mitsubishi?” His tone was knowing, and slightly accusatory. Fucking Adam. He could pick up on anything. “Where’d you get that from?”

Ronan just carried on walking. If he didn’t say anything, he wasn’t technically lying.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is for jessiefish34.tumblr.com aka jess and i blame you entirely for this piece of sin


End file.
